“No. I thought she might have been in the bathroom, so I kept calling back.” Jenny flattens one hand against her chest as though to slow her heart. “When I finally reached her, much later, Mom told me she’d been sleeping and hadn’t heard the phone. God, my chest hurts.”

“Stop talking for a minute. Stop thinking, too.”

“I can’t. Penn, I think Mom was lying. She never doesn’t answer the phone in the early morning like that. I don’t think she was home. Dad, either.”

I blow out a rush of air, trying to force myself to think rationally. “Jesus. I don’t know what that means. When did you remember this?”

“It was on the plane ride over that it really started to bother me. I didn’t know what Daddy was trying to do by keeping quiet, and I was afraid to ask him. That’s why I only went to see him in jail that one time. I knew he would sense that I suspected something. I’ve been obsessing about it ever since the trial started, but I couldn’t bear to mention it to you. I was trying to trust in Daddy. For the first couple of days I was terrified, but starting yesterday it seemed like everything was going to turn out all right. But now this—”

“What about Mom, Jenny? Have you asked her about it since you got here?”

My sister nods again. “She totally blew me off again. Said she never heard the phone.”

“Maybe Dad left the TV on when he went out,” I suggest, “and that covered up the phone.”

Jenny dismisses this by closing her eyes. “You know that’s wrong. He has it blaring all the time in bed, and she still wakes up for the telephone. She’s like a mama bear sleeping through a storm, but waking up at the slightest peep from one of her cubs.” Jenny twists her neck with apparent pain, then shakes her head as though to rid herself of her thoughts.

“They’re going to call me in to see Mom in a second,” I remind her.

“I know.” Her bloodshot eyes find mine. “Was I right to tell you?”

“You had to tell me,” I assure her. “I don’t know where we’re going from here, but it’s long past time we knew the truth.”

The door opens and the reception nurse leans in. “Mayor Cage? Your mother’s waiting to see you.”

I hug Jenny, then hurry through the door.

Before it closes I hear the nurse say, “Your brother’s the mayor and your daddy’s Dr. Cage? Isn’t that something. Can I get you a Coke or some coffee, hon?”

“No, thank you.”

Chapter 72

“She’s sleeping again,” says the white-clad duty nurse who leads me into Mom’s treatment room. “She’ll come around again any minute, though.”